


what baking can do

by mogirl97



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Chef Lena, Childhood Memories, F/F, Fluff, Love at First Sight, sugar butter flour and a dash of angst, youtuber kara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 17:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20839535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mogirl97/pseuds/mogirl97
Summary: Inside the mind of Lena Luthor, there’s a trove of good memories—happy ones—overshadowed by a childhood overwhelmingly full of pain she wishes she could forget. One in particular, involving a sunny, late summer day, she has seemingly long forgotten. It’s still there though. The brain sealed it up with the emotions she felt that afternoon. Held it in its mysterious depths. Just waiting for the right thing to make her remember.





	what baking can do

Researchers have long searched for the engram, the physical trace of memory in the brain, to no avail. The making and keeping of memories is a complex process that scientists currently theorize is the collective effort of several regions of the brain—not just one metaphorical dusty attic of boxes. Studies suggest that bad memories are more potent than good ones, clinging invisibly to the brain and painting heavy black strokes over an entire day, year, childhood. Making people forget some of the bright spots underneath. But they’re still there. Waiting to be uncovered by something. Perhaps a smell, the strongest sense for rousing memories. Information from the olfactory bulb, unlike input from the other sensory organs, passes through the amygdala and hippocampus—two areas of the brain implicated in memory and emotion. 

Inside the mind of Lena Luthor, there’s a trove of good memories—happy ones—overshadowed by a childhood overwhelmingly full of pain she wishes she could forget. One in particular, involving a sunny, late summer day, she has seemingly long forgotten. It’s still there though. The brain sealed it up with the emotions she felt that afternoon. Held it in its mysterious depths. Just waiting for the right thing to make her remember. 

She was seven years old. 

What most people don’t know about the Luthor family is that they do not come from generations of old money. Lionel built Luthor Corp from the ground up. He was raised by a single mother in a small town called Midvale and, despite his rising in the world and offerings of a wing of the Luthor Manor to call her own, his mother elected to remain in her humble home there. And so, every summer from the time Lex turned four, Lionel would ignore the protests of Lillian that time could be better spent and sent his son—and later his daughter as well, to spend a month with their grandmother in the place where he grew up. 

Lena was seven years old and Lex was 16 and had long outgrown any fondness he felt for their aging grandmother and their annual stays with her. Lena loved them though. She loved the big rose bushes that grew in the front yard of Grandma Luthor’s house; a dazzling array of white, and pinks, and reds. She loved the old, well worn children's books that were shelved on the bookcase in the room that had once belonged to her father—the way her grandmother said, _ “My, aren’t you a smart one,”  _ the summer that she started reading them aloud to her instead of being read to. Most of all, she loved that she never had to wonder if her grandmother loved her. Grandma Luthor gave hugs freely. She called Lena her sweet girl. Always listened attentively to Lena talk about what she had learned that year in Kindergarten, first grade, second grade. One month with grandma filled up her heart and made the rest of the year bearable until she could come see her again. 

It was late in the afternoon on the last day in Midvale for that summer before Lionel—or more likely one of his revolving door of assistants—would come retrieve the Luthor siblings. The impending return to Metropolis had snapped Lex out of his melodramatic skulking long enough to pester Lena and make her cry. Exactly what he said to upset her isn’t of significance to this memory, it’s what happened next that is. 

Lena took off down the street on her little robin’s egg blue Huffy bike, with the basket on the handlebars, blinking back tears. She had rarely ever ventured far from her grandma’s house, but on this day she found herself furiously pedaling her little legs as hard as she could, taking herself into unfamiliar territory. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her cheeks pinked. Fueling her on was the anger and sadness that she very soon had to go back to a house that, in the three years she had lived there, had yet to feel like a home. Whenever she cried over missing her grandma, Lillian would chastise her, remind her that it wasn’t even her real grandmother. 

Caught up in the cacophony of her emotions, she didn’t notice when her front tire hit a rock until she was crashing down onto the pavement. It took a second for the pain to register from the scrapes on her elbows and knees, freshly blooming with blood. Looking around, she realized she was completely unfamiliar with her surroundings and she started to cry even harder. 

“Alex! Do you hear that? Someone’s crying…” 

Lena’s ears perked up the sound of a girl’s voice and she hastily wiped at her tears. Being a Luthor had taught her that she shouldn’t let other people see her looking so pathetic. 

Two girls that looked just a little bit older than her came scrambling down the driveway of the nearest house to find her, still sitting in the middle of the street. 

“Are you okay?” the one wearing glasses and two blond pigtail braids asked, her eyes widening as she took in the scene. Her cheeks were freckled and there was a gap in her mouth from a missing front tooth.

Lena nodded mutely and nudged her bike off of her to ease herself to her feet. 

“I’m going to go get some bandaids,” the other girl remarked before taking off in a run, back towards the house. 

Meanwhile, the blonde reached for Lena’s bike and started pushing it to the sidewalk. “It’s not safe to stay in the street.” 

Lena followed after her obediently, biting her lip to keep herself from crying again as pain simmered across her scratched up skin. With her bike laying in the grass, they perched on the edge of the curb and Lena started to pick at the gravel pressed into the skin on her knees. 

The girl was babbling on about something, she probably said her name at some point, but Lena wasn’t paying much attention to her. 

“That looks like it hurts,” she heard her say. 

Lena shrugged. Other things hurt much worse. 

The girl who had gone for bandaids returned then with a full first aid kit and diligently started cleaning up her cuts, and putting Neopsorin and  _ Wizard of Oz _ bandaids on the worst of them. 

Beside her, the one with the glasses had at some point ended up holding her hand for reassurance or comfort or something and commented, “Alex is going to be a doctor when she grows up.”

Alex smoothed a Glinda bandaid over her shin, “You’re lucky you didn’t hit your head. Did you know your brain can bleed?” 

“Ew Alex. Don’t scare her.” 

“I’m just saying.” Standing up, Alex admired her handiwork. “Okay, I think you’re good.” 

“Thank you,” Lena whispered shyly, looking down at her hand that was still being held. 

“Did you just move here? I’ve never seen you before,” Alex’s sister asked, at least Lena thought they were sisters.

Lena shook her head, “No. I’m just visiting my grandma.” 

“Girls! Pie is ready to eat!” A woman’s voice called from the front porch of the house. “Come get a piece while it’s still warm.” 

The girl beside her tugged on her hand, “C’mon! Pie will make you feel much better.” 

She really should go back to her grandma’s. She could figure out where she was. She couldn’t have gotten that far...

But suddenly she was having a hard time saying no to that grinning face, bright blue eyes sparkling behind her glasses. 

“Are you sure?” she found herself saying.

“Of course! There’s plenty to share.” 

And so she allowed herself to be towed up the driveway and into the big, beautiful house that was currently filled with the thick hazy scent of chocolate. She was introduced to the girls’ mother as a new friend and, without further questioning, served a slice of the pie that had produced such a delicious smell: chocolate pecan topped with fresh whipped cream. She watched in amused fascination as her blonde companion tore into it with abandon. Manners and etiquette were imperative to mealtimes at the Luthor household. Fudgy chocolate gathered into the corners of mouths and dots of whipped cream on the tips of noses would be deemed highly unacceptable. 

“Kara, maybe take a breath in between bites?” her mother just suggested, laughter in her eyes. 

_ Kara.  _

A name that would be forgotten in a few days time but for the moment took up residence inside Lena’s brain along with the thought that holding her hand had felt nice in an unexpected sort of way. 

Lena slid her fork into the pie and took a delicate bite before letting out an audible, “Oh yum.” 

One thing Grandma Luthor could  _ not _ do was cook or bake. She was a disaster in the kitchen with anything that required more effort than sticking something pre-prepared by Marie Calender or Stouffer’s in her toaster oven. In her dreams though, she was a Barefoot Contessa. Lena and her grandma would eat their Stouffer’s lasagna at TV trays in the living room while they watched the Food Network. Ina and Alton and Rachel and Sandra. Grandma Luthor would sigh and remark on how they made it all look so easy. 

“Good right?” Kara asked through a mouthful of food, earning herself another amused head shake from her mother. 

“It’s delicious. Thank you, ma’am,” she directed at Alex and Kara’s mom with her practiced manners. 

When her plate was clean, she reluctantly bid her goodbyes, and went outside to retrieve her bike. She didn’t want her grandmother to worry too long over her having disappeared. Just as she was about to push off the pavement, she heard footsteps running after her and turned to see Kara pushing her own bike down the driveway towards her. 

“Mom said I should make sure you get home safe,” she explained, buckling on her helmet.

Lena blinked at her, “Oh.” 

They probably didn’t take the most direct way home. There were definitely a few missed turns and circling backs. But if Kara noticed, she didn’t say a thing. 

Finally they found their way back to Grandma Luthor’s, where they put up the kickstands on their bikes and Lena turned to Kara, “Thank you.” 

“Maybe we can ride our bikes together again tomorrow?” Kara asked, dipping her head shyly. 

Lena wished, more than anything, that she could say yes. 

“I can’t. I’m going home tomorrow.” She frowned at the way Kara’s face fell. She hated disappointing people. “I’m sorry. But I’ll be back next summer, and then we can.” 

“Pinky swear?” 

Lena wrinkled her nose in confusion, “What?” 

“You’ve never made a pinky swear?” 

Lena shook her head and Kara held up her pinky, gesturing for her to do the same. 

“It’s like this,” Kara explained, linking their pinky fingers together. “Pinky swear, we’ll be best friends next summer.” 

Best friends. Lena didn’t really even have any regular friends. 

“Now you have to say pinky swear,” Kara nudged. 

“Pinky swear,” she whispered in response. 

Kara beamed widely and gave her a quick hug before taking off on her bike and leaving Lena to watch her retreating back, pigtail braids flying out from underneath her helmet. 

Venturing inside the house, she found her grandmother in the living room, reading a book, and she looked up upon her arrival. 

“Well there you are. Your brother said you went for a bike ride, I was starting to think you were going out for the Tour de Midvale.” She eased herself slowly up out of her chair and got a better look at her skinned knees, battered elbows, collage of band-aids, “Goodness girl, did you get in a fight?” 

“Just a little crash. I’m okay.” 

She was even better than okay. She had made a pinky swear. She was going to have a best friend. 

“If you say so.” The toaster oven timer rang in the kitchen and Grandma Luthor announced, “Oh! Dinner is ready. Why don’t you turn on the tv, and get the trays set up? I’ll get your plate.” 

What Lena didn’t know as she ate her Marie Callender pot pie while watching Rachel Ray make a thirty minute meal was that the promise she had made that afternoon would be forgotten and broken. 

Barely a week after bidding her grandmother goodbye she learned the heartbreaking truth that it had been the last time she would be on the receiving end of one of her perfect hugs. The memories of that summer, of the sisters and the pie and the pinky swear were buried under a new black dress and tears she was scolded for shedding. The summers in Midvale were over. 

It would be sixteen years until she would remember. 

* * *

“Lena!” 

Lena paused with her tasting spoon hovering inches from her mouth as she glanced over at her front of house manager—who also occasionally doubled as her personal assistant—waving at her from the entrance to the busy kitchen. Quickly, she slipped the bite of sauce into her mouth and gave her sous chef an affirmative nod before weaving her way over to Eve. 

“Yes?” 

“I just wanted to catch you before you left for the night to remind you of a few things.” Eve blew an errant blond curl out of her face that had fallen from her ponytail. “You are leaving soon, right? You’ve been here for twelve hours, how are you still standing?” 

Lena looked down at her sneaker clad feet that— _ now that someone mentioned it _ —were starting to ache. Lex had sent her a pair of Crocs as a present when her restaurant opened that she refused to wear on principle because, not only were they tacky, but she knew he meant them as a joke. Her family hadn’t taken her career choice seriously and she hadn’t felt guilty at all about ignoring their calls when she became the youngest head chef of a Michelin Star restaurant and apparently wasn’t too embarrassing to associate with anymore. 

She had been on her feet for nearly twelve hours and, besides a few taste tests, she wasn’t sure if she had actually eaten anything in that time. But throwing herself into her work had always been a welcome distraction and, today of all days, she especially needed a distraction. 

“I’m leaving soon,” she promised Eve. “I just want to make sure that all the prep is on the right track for brunch tomorrow.” 

“Okay, well.” Eve tapped on her iPad to bring up Lena’s schedule that she dutifully kept for her. “Don’t forget that your recipe for CatCo digital is due on Thursday and you still need to schedule a studio visit with that artist who wants to display some of her pieces here.” 

“I remember. Just make me an appointment for the studio visit in one of my calendar openings please. Were you able to confirm when the critic from Connoisseur is coming to review the new brunch menu?” 

“Mmm… sort of. Either next week or the week after that, or possibly the week after that. He was very vague. And kind of odd.” 

“He’s also an egomaniac, but his word is gospel in the restaurant industry, so we have to feed him a perfect brunch. Make sure that your staff is aware that he’ll be showing up sometime in the near future.” 

“Will do boss. Now will you please trust  _ your _ staff and go home? No offense, but you look like shit.” 

Lena frowned and tipped her head to the side to catch a distorted glimpse of her reflection in the oven door beyond Eve’s shoulder. She  _ was _ looking a little rough. 

She held up her hands in defeat, “Okay fine, I’m leaving.” 

After another lap around the kitchen checking on her chefs to make sure their brunch prep was humming along smoothly, she shed her jacket and hung it on its hook. Pressing a kiss to her fingers, she tapped the faded photograph taped above it. Like the photo, most of her memories from the summers she had spent with her grandma had faded, but it was because of her that she had decided to go to culinary school. She wasn’t sure if she believed in heaven but she wanted to believe that her grandmother was watching her now, like she had watched her favorite chefs on television. Today was the anniversary of her death, and while Lena no longer felt the ache as strongly as she had when the piece of her heart had been freshly cut out, the day was still a difficult one. 

On her way home from the restaurant she stopped at a mini-mart to obtain a Stouffer’s frozen lasagna, throwing into her shopping basket a pint of ice cream for good measure. 

While her loft filled with the scent of tomato sauce and bubbling cheese, she poured a glass of wine and retrieved her laptop to open YouTube. A few months ago she had stumbled upon a new channel that she now eagerly anticipated the Saturday uploads from. When she clicked on her subscriptions tab she found at the top a new video from,  _ “What Kara Ate.” _

Taking a sip of her wine, she watched as Kara interviewed the chef at a hole-in-the-wall pizza parlor in Central City. When she had first discovered Kara’s channel, she had a few thousand followers, but she was now pushing three million and continuing to grow by the day. The explosive growth in the channel could only be owed to the host’s magnetic personality. Kara had a genuine way of making every chef and restaurant owner feel like they were her best friend right from the start of the combination interview and cooking demo. She was warm and charming and funny, and Lena often found herself daydreaming about what it would be like to be interviewed by her. 

Kara finished listening to the chef talk about how the recipe for the sauce had been passed down through three generations of their family, before taking a turn at attempting to toss dough that was a spectacular fail. 

“You’ll edit that out, right Winn?” Kara asked while she untangled herself from the pizza dough that was wrapped around her forearms. 

“Of course,” the voice behind the camera assured her as a line of text flashed across the bottom of the screen flashed, _ “Sorry Kara. I couldn’t resist… please don’t fire me.”  _

Lena felt the corners of her mouth turn up into a smile. Reaching for her phone, she opened Instagram and found Kara’s profile, where there was a new picture with a massive pizza set out on the table in front of her to promote the video. Lena tapped a like and then skimmed the caption down to the bottom where one sentence caught her attention. 

_ “Taking some time off from traveling to visit my sister, so my next stop on this food adventure will be in (drumroll please).... National City! While I’m there I’m hoping to hit up 3 or 4 food trucks, diners, hole in the wall local faves… you guys know what kind of places I like :) Send me your recommendations!”  _

Lena’s restaurant was not at all like the kind of places that Kara featured on her channel, but it couldn’t hurt to at least reach out and invite her to dinner…

Before she could talk herself out of it, she typed out a quick direct message:

_ Hi Kara! I’m a National City based chef and a big fan of your videos. While my restaurant doesn’t quite fit the theme of your channel, I would love to host you and any guests of your choosing for a complimentary dinner while you’re in town. Let me know if you’re interested and I can have my front of house manager set something up.  _

Her oven timer dinged just as she hit send and she dropped her phone onto the couch to go retrieve her lasagna before it could go from perfectly browned to burnt to a crisp. She had made many lasagnas in her life that tasted far better than the ones that came from a box, but every once in a while she just needed to be transported back to her grandmother’s kitchen. 

* * *

Kara scrolled through the comments on her latest video, replying and liking, and occasionally reading one out loud to Winn. 

“Someone wants to know when we’re going to see, and I quote,  _ ‘your cute face’  _ in a video again,” she remarked, nudging his shoulder with her toe. Peeking out from her Birkenstocks were a pair of socks patterned with potstickers that a subscriber had sent her after she mentioned in a Q+A video that they were her favorite food. “And 1328 people liked the comment.” 

He looked up from where he was sitting on the floor of the airport editing the footage from their last stop at a bakery that made the best muffins she had ever tasted in her life. And she had eaten a lot of muffins. 

“You can assure them that my cute face will make an appearance in the next episode. I’m almost finished editing and we have that clip of me tossing mini muffins into your mouth.” 

She grinned, “Ah yes, with that athletic feat I made up for my incompetence with pizza tossing.”

Her phone buzzed and she looked down at it to see a text from Alex asking when their flight was going to get in. Sending a quick reply, she was about to slip her phone into her backpack when another notification popped up for an Instagram DM. Ever since the channel had taken off in popularity, she had started getting upwards of a thousand messages a day across her social media. Responding to all of them could be overwhelming—and some got an instant delete, like guys trying to hit on her—but she did her best to be engaged with her viewers. 

When she had first proposed her idea for the channel to Winn one night after her waitressing shift, she never expected it to turn into a full time job for both of them. She got to travel and eat and conduct interviews—all things that she loved—and she owed that to the people who clicked on her videos every week. The least she could do was respond to their messages. 

Opening Instagram, she read over the message, and then read over it again. She tapped over to the sender’s profile and found herself looking at a carefully curated feed of photos of, quite possibly, the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. Lena Luthor was apparently the executive head chef at L2, a Michelin Star awarded restaurant in downtown National City. Lena was right about what she said in her message, definitely not the kind of fare typically featured in her videos, but she wasn’t one to turn down a free meal. 

She shot Alex another text. 

**KARA: Have you ever eaten at this place called L2?? **

**ALEX: Are you kidding?**

**ALEX: I know you’ve been on the road for a while but that’s like THE restaurant **

**ALEX: It’s impossible to get a reservation there**

**KARA: well maybe not so impossible for a certain celebrity you know and love...**

**ALEX: amy adams?**

**KARA: oh i didn’t realize you two were pals now**

**ALEX: obviously i know you’re referring to yourself but I refuse to consider you a celebrity**

**KARA: whatever the point is we’re having dinner at L2 while I’m in town**

Her phone rang and when she picked up, Alex immediately launched into, “Are you serious? I’ve heard through the grapevine at the hospital that the food is incredible. Kelly and I tried to make these crepes that the chef posted a recipe for on CatCo’s website, but that was a fail because how the hell are you supposed to flambé without burning down your apartment?” 

“Don’t ask me. The show is called  _ ‘What Kara Ate,’ _ not,  _ ‘What Kara Made,’ _ for a reason. Anyways, the owner of L2, Lena, I guess she watches my videos. She invited me to come for dinner—a  _ complimentary _ dinner—while I’m in town. And I’m allowed to bring guests.” 

“Well then you can count Kelly and I in for sure. I’ll send you our work schedules for the next two weeks…” 

Kara finished her conversation with Alex just as their flight was being called to board, “See you in a few hours.” 

On the plane she paid the ridiculous fee for in-flight wifi so she could continue responding to YouTube and Instagram comments. She also replied to Lena’s message, and spent more than just a few minutes scrolling through her photos. She noticed that there didn’t seem to be a trace of a romantic relationship and rolled her eyes at herself for looking for that like some middle school girl with a crush. Their wasn’t really a trace of her personal life at all. Almost all of the photos were professional shots from magazines and web features—either of her, her food, or her with her food. Kara stifled a laugh at the artful plating of Lena’s dishes that was a sharp contrast to the meals she featured on her channel that were definitely more about pleasing the taste buds than the eyes. If she had a Michelin star though—

_ At only 23?? _

—her food had to be as delicious as it was pretty. A little fine dining would be a nice change of pace. 

When their flight landed and they gathered up their bags containing the contents of their life for the past year on the road, they found Alex’s girlfriend Kelly waiting for them. 

“Alex ended up getting to scrub in for surgery and, as excited to see you as she is…” 

“She wasn’t going to turn down an opportunity to dig around in someone’s brain,” Kara finished for her, setting down her bags and opening her arms to give her a hug. 

“I’m not sure that’s the most technically accurate way to refer to a tumor removal, but sure,” Kelly replied as Kara released her. “I don’t know when she’ll be home, so I was tasked with getting you guys settled. Are you hungry? The state of our fridge is abysmal, but we can stop somewhere on the way…” 

“We haven’t eaten anything but muffins in the last 24 hours. A real meal might not be a bad idea,” Winn remarked and Kara nodded in agreement. 

Kelly ushered them towards her car, “Speaking of meals, I heard you managed to snag us a coveted table at L2. I tried to make a reservation there for Alex’s birthday and was told that they were booked for months. There’s a helicopter pad on the roof because celebrities fly up from LA just to have dinner.” 

“So how am I just now hearing about this place?” Kara asked, tossing her suitcase into Kelly’s truck. 

“They’ve been open for about two years I think, but they got their Michelin Star at the beginning of this year and that’s what made things really explode. She’s the youngest to have one. Took out some British guy’s record by a year.” 

“And she watches our YouTube videos?” Winn asked incredulously. 

Kara shrugged casually, downplaying her own astonishment, “I guess so…” 

* * *

“Hey boss?” 

Lena looked up from the zucchini she was slicing, “Yeah?” 

Eve gestured to her phone, pressed against her shirt to muffle the noises from the kitchen, “I have a Kara Danvers on the phone… she said you gave her my number…?” 

“Oh shit, sorry I forget to tell you about that. I’ve invited her for dinner.” 

“Yeah, when exactly were you planning on fitting her in? You know we’re booked out for five months, right?” 

Lena bit her lip. She had known that. Messaging Kara had been an impulsive decision without much thought though. 

She improvised, “I was thinking we could bring them in after closing?” 

“So you want me to schedule staff for overtime?” 

“I’ll handle it,” she replied, resuming her slicing and dicing. “Wait, did she say how many people she’s bringing with her?” 

“Party of four.” 

“Yeah. I can handle that.” 

“Well I’m not going to let you do that. I’ll stay and help, but you owe me. Who even is this person?” 

_ ‘Someone I have a ridiculous internet crush on,’  _ popped into her mind with startling clarity. 

“She’s an important food critic we need to impress,” came out of her mouth. 

Which wasn’t  _ technically _ a lie. 

Eve’s eyes widened, “Oh.” Pulling her phone back up to her ear, she resumed her conversation with the person on the other line, “Ms. Danvers, I sincerely apologize for the wait. We are honored that you will be dining with us…” 

Eve’s voice trailed off as she returned to her office and Lena refocused on finishing up the basket of vegetables she was prepping. She had plenty of chefs on her team that she could delegate away all of the work to if she wanted to, but she liked the routine tasks involved with prep and being a part of the pre-dinner rush energy that hummed in the kitchen. 

It was also easy for her to convince herself that she wasn’t lonely when she was always in a crowded kitchen. 

Eve popped her head back in a few minutes later to report that Danvers, party of four, would be dining with them Friday evening. That gave her a little less than a week to plan the perfect menu. She wanted to serve some of her signature menu items, but also a few items that she knew from watching nearly 40 episodes of _ “What Kara Ate,”  _ would go over well with her guest of honor. Potstickers, definitely potstickers. And some kind of homemade ice cream…

Cleaning up her workspace, she retreated into her office to retrieve her notebook and started drafting up menu ideas. 

* * *

Kara inspected her outfit in the mirror, unbuttoned and rebuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse for the tenth time. 

“Kara! Are you ready to go?” Alex called from down the hall. “You know how nightmarish Friday night traffic can be…” 

“Coming!” She yelled back. 

Deciding on keeping the buttons open, she donned her suit jacket over top to complete the look. She didn’t know why she was obsessing so much over her outfit. She gathered up her things and flicked off the lights on Kelly’s office that doubled as a guest room before heading for the door where Alex and Kelly were waiting. Winn was staying with an old friend and would be meeting them at the restaurant. She had extended an invitation to Eliza, but her mom was presenting at a conference in Star City that week and had to decline. 

As Alex navigated them through the sitting, relaying the latest gossip from her residency program (translation: who was sleeping with who), Kara only half-listened. She drummed her fingers on her thighs and watched as the city moved past her window, lighting up for the night. 

Apparently the way to get a dinner reservation and a restaurant with no available reservations for the foreseeable future was to get invited for a private dinner after closing. Kara’s stomach grumbled noisily at the reminder that it was well past when she had first gotten hungry for dinner, but hadn’t wanted to eat anything in order to save room for whatever their host was preparing. 

She had done some more research on the head chef and owner of L2, Lena Luthor; the same sort of preparation she would’ve done for any of her interviews. There wasn’t much to be found prior to when she first broke onto the scene after graduating from culinary school and relocated to National City to open her restaurant. Her family, despite the well-known billion dollar corporation that boasted their name, kept their personal business under tight lock and key. From what she had gathered, it seemed like Lena had been disassociated with the rest of the Luthors for some time now. There had been a few articles about L2’s Michelin Star achievement. Three episodes of Chopped that she had been a guest judge on. A few recipe columns in CatCo Magazine (including the infamous crepes flambé that Alex and Kelly had failed to recreate). 

Oh yeah, and a certain feature in the National City Inquirer last June that had definitely caught her interest…

Shaking her head, she tuned back into Alex’s monologue and tuned out the unproductive thoughts swirling around her brain. 

She was acting like she was going on a first date instead of to a professional engagement. Except that this wasn’t exactly work. Lena wasn’t seeking promotion for her restaurant—she certainly didn’t need it from a YouTube channel whose audience was probably not congruent with her clientele—she had just wanted her to come for dinner. It was a bit more extravagant than the usual gifts she received from subscribers. 

When they pulled up to L2 and a valet appeared to open her door, she amended that thought. 

It was a  _ lot _ more extravagant. 

Inside, Winn was already there waiting for them since he hadn’t been held up by a wardrobe crisis. They were greeted by a woman with blonde curls and a black dress who introduced herself as the Eve that Kara had spoken to on the phone. 

“Lena apologizes for not being able to come out and greet you. She’s flying solo in the kitchen tonight and can’t step away, but she’ll be out after desert.” 

Eve beckoned them to follow her to a table positioned near the kitchen. As they walked through the main dining room, Kara let her eyes dance around the space, taking it in. Sleek, modern, sophisticated, with a few touches of warmth. An eclectic assortment of art was displayed gallery style on the walls—the lights illuminating the pieces some of the only light in the dim, mostly candlelit room. It was the kind of place that made you feel like you were someone important for having had the privilege to step foot inside. When they got to their table and settled into chairs around it, Kara was hit by the aromas emanating from the nearby kitchen and she took a deep inhale. 

“Oh my god it smells amazing in here,” Alex whispered to her as Eve started to take drink orders and she nodded in agreement. 

For the next almost three hours they were treated to five courses of some of the best food Kara had ever eaten. And if the blissed out looks on her companions’ faces were any indication, the sentiment was shared. It wasn’t fair to compare the meal to what she ate when she was filming her show, because this was a whole other category of cuisine. Each dish had layers of flavor that unraveled on her taste buds—some delicate, some rich. Sweet, spicy, savory, and tastes that couldn’t be described with words. With every plate that was cleared, Kara couldn’t wait to finally meet the chef— _ the artist _ —who was beyond the kitchen door. Finally, after everyone at the table had finished scraping clean the dishes of homemade ice cream that were presented as desert, Lena made her appearance. 

She was wearing a black chef’s coat and her dark hair was pulled back into a high bun with a bandana tied on as a headband. Those piercing green eyes that Kara had spent an embarrassing amount of time staring at in pictures of her looked tired, but they lit up when she was greeted with an overflow of praise for the dinner. 

“Thank you so much for inviting us here tonight,” Kara said to her when they had finished bombarding her with compliments. “This was very generous of you, and if there’s anything I can do in return…” 

Lena waved a hand dismissively, “It’s a gift. To be able to share my passion with someone who has such an appreciation for food. And it’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve been watching your videos almost since the very beginning of your channel. You’re a talented journalist.” 

Kara laughed, “Oh I’m not really a journalist.” 

“Could’ve fooled me.” Lena leaned in a little closer to her to add, “I’ve spoken with a lot of food journalists, and they could take some pointers from you on how to ask good questions.” 

A blush rose in Kara’s cheeks and she took a sip of water, embarrassed at the effect that her compliment had on her. She hoped it wasn’t evident in the dim lighting of the restaurant. Determined not to let Lena’s flattery get the best of her— _ be cool Danvers _ —she countered with, “Well maybe I’ll have to interview you sometime then.” 

The corner of Lena’s mouth lifted up into a satisfied smile, “I’d like that.” 

Alex cleared her throat, reminding them that they were not alone at the table and Kara fidgeted with her glasses self-consciously when she looked around to see that they were being watched with amused expressions. 

“I hate to be the party pooper, but it is after midnight,” Alex pointed out. “And I have to be at the hospital early tomorrow.”

“I also have an early morning meeting with my advisor for my dissertation,” Kelly added apologetically. 

“Oh of course,” Lena straightened up and smoothed out nonexistent wrinkles in her coat. “I won’t hold you up any longer. I appreciate you being willing to come in so late. I know it’s not exactly the most ideal time for dinner.”

“ _ We _ appreciate you staying so late to cook for us,” Kara emphasized, almost reaching out to place a hand on her arm before thinking better of it, and everyone chimed in in agreement. 

* * *

Sunday morning Lena found herself at the farmer’s market inspecting a carton of eggs when she caught a glimpse of a familiar face. From overtop a pyramid of winter squash, Kara’s eyes met hers and lit up with recognition. 

“Lena!” she waved with a friendly smile, before circumventing the stand to walk over to her. 

“Good morning Kara,” she greeted her, stiffening when she was pulled into a hug. 

“Sorry,” Kara pulled back apologetically. “I’m a hugger, I forget not everyone’s a hugger.” 

Lena shook her head, “It’s alright, you just caught me off guard.”

Seeing as she was very rarely on the receiving end of a hug. If Kara wanted to go in for another, she would gladly accept it. 

“I just wanted to thank you again for dinner the other night. It was amazing,” Kara gushed. “We all can’t stop talking about it.” 

Lena beamed with pride, “Thank you. It was my pleasure. So what brings you to the market this morning?” 

“Winn and I just wrapped an interview with the owner of the waffle food truck.” Kara pointed over to the brightly colored truck that boasted the best waffles in National City. Even as the chill of fall had long settled over the city, people were still lining up outside for the food trucks at the market. “Winn’s getting some b-roll footage right now so I thought I’d get out of his way and take a lap around.” 

“So… you and Winn…?” Lena waved her hands in a meaningless gesture and hoped Kara would get what she was alluding to. 

Kara tilted her head in confusion, “Winn and I…?”

She swallowed, pretty sure she was about to make a fool of herself but plowing on anyway, “I mean, you spend a lot of time on the road, working together, so you must have a pretty good relationship. How long have you been together?” 

“What? Oh. No. We’re not together. Like that. We’re just friends. He’s not my type.” Kara fiddled with the cuffs of her jacket and added a beat later, “Because he’s a guy.” 

Lena made a valiant attempt at keeping her face neutral while her heart rate was steadily increasing. Ever since she had been included in a National City Inquirer feature on LGBTQ+ tastemakers in the city last Pride, her sexuality had been pretty public knowledge. Much to the chagrin of her Mother, who had sent her an email that she had ignored, asking her why she had to make what happened in her bedroom public knowledge. Unfortunately the only thing that had been happening in her bedroom lately though had been not enough hours of sleep after she returned from a long shift at the restaurant, practically asleep on her feet. But if she were sharing her bed with someone— _ yes Mother _ , it would be a woman. 

Kara had included that addendum like someone who knew that. Like someone who wanted her to know that she knew that information. Things  _ had _ seemed flirty between them the other night at the restaurant, but she had chalked that up to her exhaustion making her delusional. 

She had two shots of espresso flowing through her veins now. 

“Oh,” was all she managed to say in response while the wheels in her brain spun, likely reading too much into eight words. 

“So, yeah…” Kara threw her hands out in a dismissive gesture, “Anyway, I don’t want to hold you up, I’m sure you’re busy. It was nice seeing you again though.” 

Lena wanted to tell her that she really wasn’t that busy so that she wouldn’t walk away but that would be a lie. Brunch started in just a little over an hour and her market trip was only supposed to have been a quick dash for some fresh eggs. One of her sous chefs had dropped an entire carton during prep earlier and then proceeded to have a breakdown over it, so Lena had offered to run out for more eggs while she calmed down. It had been a win win for the both of them since Eve was pretty positive that the Connoisseur critic was coming that morning and Lena was getting dangerously close to her own breakdown. The fresh air had helped. So had running into Kara. 

“It was nice seeing you too,” Lena replied. As Kara started to walk away, she called out after her, “Wait, Kara.” Kara glanced back over her shoulder and she continued, “How long are you going to be in town?” 

“About three weeks.” 

“Will I see you again?” 

She had mentioned wanting to interview her, but Lena wasn’t sure if that was just a passing remark in response to the compliment she had paid her, or if she was actually interested in talking to her more. 

A smile turned up the corner of Kara’s mouth, “You have my number. Well, your manager does. You’ll have to get it from her.” 

Lena smiled, biting her lip as Kara walked away. 

So… maybe she had been spot on with what she was reading from her. 

When she got back to L2, brunch prep was in high gear and Lena passed off the eggs to one of her sous chefs before donning her coat and trying her hair back. Overthinking her interaction with Kara would have to take a back burner to serving up perfection. 

* * *

Kara stared at her phone as if she could telepathically will it to ring. She stood up and paced the room. She responded to emails. She vacuumed Alex and Kelly’s entire apartment. She ate the last of their Doritos. She lamented the fact that they didn’t taste as good as the homemade Doritos this one place she and Winn had visited a few months ago made for their taco salad. 

(The one instance in which she featured a  _ salad _ on her channel.)

Except that the salad that Lena had served them as one of their many courses had been admittedly delicious despite all the green that she usually did not associate with delicious. 

That thought took her back around to wishing her phone would ring. 

When it finally did, she practically launched herself across the room, fumbling to answer the call without checking to see who it was from. 

“Hello?” 

“Why do you sound so out of breath? Were you just running?” 

She slumped down onto the couch in disappointment, “I—no. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m getting to scrub in for a surgery this evening so I won’t be able to go with you to scout out that diner like we originally planned,” Alex’s voice filtered through the phone. “I know the point of you taking time off from traveling was to spend time with me but—“

“This is a really crucial time in your residency for you to be taking every opportunity to prove yourself. I get it.” 

“Thank you for understanding. I have off tomorrow and I promise we will spend the entire day doing whatever you want.” 

“Pinky swear?” Kara asked, a piece of their childhood they had held on to. 

“Pinky swear.”

“I’m holding you to that.” 

“I know. So who were you hoping this call was actually from?” Alex asked, humor lacing her voice. 

“What?” 

“You were not very successful in hiding the disappointment in your voice when you realized it was me. I’m choosing to be curious instead of offended.”

Kara picked at a hole in her jeans, “I thought you were Lena.” 

She could practically hear the eyebrow raise that was most certainly happening on her sister’s face as she replied with, “Oh?” 

“We ran into each other at the farmer’s market this morning and—I think we flirted?“

“You think?” 

“Well, I was flirting.” 

“Something you’re not great at.” 

If Alex was in the room Kara would’ve tossed a pillow at her, “Hey!” 

“Kidding, kidding. It definitely did seem like she was into you the other night at dinner.” 

“She insinuated that she wanted to see me again and I said that she should call me. And now I’ve spent the time since then telepathically willing my phone to ring... even though that’s ridiculous because she’s at work so calling me is super low on her list of priorities.”

Alex laughed, “What is it with you and developing hard and fast crushes in like 0.2 seconds?”

“It was not 0.2 seconds,” Kara argued. “And she seduced me with food, of course I was defenseless.” 

“Alright well, I have to go, but good luck with that. If you need something to do while you wait, I’m sure the apartment could use some tidying up…”

“Oh it did. I already took care of that. In fact, I even—“ Her phone started buzzing with an incoming call and she moved it away from her ear to see that it was from an unknown number. “Gotta go. Love you. Good luck with surgery,” she blurted out before hanging up on Alex and taking the call.

* * *

“Hello?” 

“Hi… Kara?” She didn’t know why she put a question mark on the end of that. Obviously it was Kara. Eve hadn’t just given her some random phone number. “This is Lena.”

“Hi.”

“You said I should call you.”

_ Wow. Getting off to a great start. _

There was a smile in Kara’s voice when she replied, “I did. How has your day been?”

“Good.” Lena sighed, “A little stressful. On Sundays we serve brunch, and we had this big critic in from Connoisseur Magazine to review the new menu. He’s not exactly keen on revealing exactly when he’s going to show up, we just knew it was maybe going to be sometime this month, so we’ve been keeping a table open just in case. But he showed today and—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble. My day has been good.” 

She wasn’t used to having someone to tell about her day. Usually she just internalized it all, the good days and the bad. She had gone through fits and starts with journaling, but that had only seemed to magnify her loneliness. No one to listen to her but a blank piece of paper. 

She and Kara had just met though, so she wasn’t sure how much she was actually interested in listening to. She didn’t want to bore her with all the minute details. 

Kara laughed though, dismissing her concern, “You weren’t rambling, you were just answering my question. I want to know, did the critic like his meal?” 

“I think so. He’s hard to read, but he cleaned his plates. So that’s probably a good sign.” 

“If your brunch is even half as good as the dinner you served us, he would have to be tasteless to not like it.” 

Lena felt her cheeks warm at the praise. She received glowing reviews for her food every day—she had a  _ Michelin Star _ for goodness sakes—and she accepted it all with smooth, professional confidence. Kara’s compliments felt underscored with flirtation though, and she couldn’t resist the effect they had on her. 

“Well I guess we’ll find out when his review is published.” She took a deep breath, “So anyway, I was wondering if you were free this evening to—”

“I am,” Kara cut in. 

Lena breathed out a laugh at her eagerness, “Okay. I have to go visit an artist who is interested in using some of my restaurant's gallery space, and I was hoping you might join me?”

“Only if you’re down for checking out a diner afterwards… It’s not the fancy pants food you’re used to but…” 

Lena laughed again, thinking of the frozen lasagna leftovers that were still sitting in her refrigerator, “You’d be surprised by what  _ fancy pants _ chefs eat.” 

“So you’re in?” 

“Yes.” Lena unlocked her apartment door and let herself inside. “Gallery first, then dinner?” 

“It’s a date.” 

Lena’s heart swooped. 

“I mean, not like a date, date,” Kara hastily amended, and Lena deflated a little. Kara tacked on, with uncertainty in her voice, “Unless that is what it is…” 

Lena set her purse on her foyer table and looked at her reflection in the mirror, squaring her shoulders to inspire confidence in herself as she replied to Kara with, “I would very much like for it to be a date.” 

“Me too.” 

A smile turned up the corners of her mouth. “Okay. Text me your address and I’ll pick you up in…” She took a whiff of herself, the smells of the kitchen lingering on her skin. A shower was going to be necessary before she’d be ready to go out. “Like an hour and a half?”

She finished making arrangements with Kara, getting the address to her sister’s apartment from her, and then hung up to throw herself into date preparation. She wasn’t sure if she had ever been on a proper date before. Her mother had kept such a chokehold on her social life that, even while she had been away at boarding school, she had been afraid to ask a girl out for fear that her all-knowing mother would somehow find out and have the poor, unfortunate girl kidnapped and shipped off to who knows where. In culinary school she had been smitten with a few women in her class, and she didn’t think it was all unrequited, but the competitive environment had stifled any actual romance between people. 

Surface level obstacles. She knew that truly, deep down, she was just afraid of putting herself out there—opening herself up to a relationship that would hurt to lose. People had hurt her, people had left her. Throwing herself into her career had given herself countless excuses to keep people at arms length. 

So what was different now?

She barely knew Kara. Except that she felt like she did. All those hours of watching her on a screen, gathering up the little pieces of herself that she shared in her videos, Lena felt like she was already a little bit in love with her. Which was weird considering how one-sided it all was. She had been getting to know Kara for months but Kara had only just met her. Was the reason that she liked Kara so much because having feelings for someone from a distance had felt safe? Hadn’t required her to entrust any piece of herself to someone...

She shut off the shower before she ended up standing under the hot spray for hours letting that train of thought spiral down the drain.

After toweling off, she ran her blow dryer over her hair and slipped into a pair of jeans and an off-the-shoulder sweater that showed off her collarbones (and  _ okay… _ her boobs). Applying a light touch of makeup made her look like she  _ had _ actually slept a healthy amount in recent nights. When she was finished, she checked the clock and saw that she had just enough time to get Kara within the hour and a half she had promised. 

Running downstairs to the garage under her apartment building, she slid into her Prius and pulled up the address Kara had sent her on her phone GPS. Lex didn’t understand why she didn’t keep a driver on her payroll but Lex didn’t understand most of her life choices. Yes, National City traffic could be the occasional nightmare. Yes, she could get work done from the backseat instead of doing the slow lift and press of her foot on the brake with the slow creep of cars. But she had learned to enjoy the forced break from her to-do list—the chance to let her thoughts wander and daydream new recipes while she hummed along with the radio, instead of answering emails and reviewing invoices from suppliers. As she drove to pick Kara up her thoughts wandered to their plans for the evening—with a few unplanned addendums that would likely remain merely fantasy. 

When she pulled up alongside the brick building where Kara’s sister lived, she shot a quick text to her date and waited less than a minute for her to come barreling out of the front door and down the steps. 

“Hi,” Kara said, a grin on her face when she opened the passenger side door and slid into the car. She was wearing jeans that stretched over muscular thighs and a heather gray button down that made her eyes look impossibly bluer. “You’re very punctual.” 

“Boarding school will do that to you,” she remarked, turning her attention away from swimming in Kara’s eyes to pull the car back out onto the street. 

“You went to boarding school?” Kara asked, picking up the thread of conversation. 

“Yep. Graduated from boarding school with my high school diploma at 15, and then I got my degree in biochemistry from MIT in three years. So I was finished with college by the time I was 18.” Lena glanced over and caught the impressed look on Kara’s face before continuing, “I was supposed to go on and get my MBA or a doctorate after that. And then work for LuthorCorp in some capacity of course.” 

“Of course,” Kara echoed. “But instead…” 

“Instead I ran off for London and enrolled in Le Cordon Bleu’s prestigious Grand Diplôme program.” 

There were gaps in the story that she didn’t fill in. Like the part where she had been flipping through the channels one insomnia riddled night for something to drown out the noise in her head and stumbled upon a late night rerun of an episode of  _ Good Eats _ , throwing her back to her grandmother’s living room. That hadn’t been the night she had decided to enroll in culinary school, but it had probably been the catalyst. She couldn’t talk about that with Kara though, about her grandmother. Not yet. It would require a vulnerability that she wasn’t ready for. 

“That means I studied both cuisine and pastry,” she elaborated on instead. “I didn’t want to specialize in just one. I wanted to do it all. It was a nine month program, very intense. But by that point in my education, I was used to intense. I thrived on intense. After graduation I worked briefly at a restaurant in Dublin, Ireland. I was there when they earned their star. I liked it there—I  _ loved _ Ireland, but I was ready to open my own restaurant and I knew I had the business savvy to do it. So yeah, that’s how I ended up here. That’s how L2 came to be.”

Kara was silent for a second before saying, “Sorry. I’m just processing all that. You graduated from MIT at 18? You’re a biochemist  _ and _ a pastry chef?” 

“My science background was extremely helpful in culinary school,” Lena tossed out nonchalantly as she turned into the parking garage adjacent to the studio space they were visiting. 

“Well yeah, you’re like a hot version of Alton Brown.” 

Lena’s eyes blew wide and she gripped the steering wheel a little harder as a blush rose in her cheeks. She managed to cough out a, “Thanks?” 

Thankfully, their arrival at the art studio put a halt to any further travel down that trail of conversation and Lena was able to recover from the impact of Kara calling her hot as she explained what they were doing there. 

“I like to decorate the restaurant with pieces from local artists—mostly women. Inside the menu there’s a list of the pieces currently being displayed and the associated artists so that patrons know they’re available for purchase. It’s mutually beneficial. It makes the restaurant look beautiful,  _ and _ it puts the art in front of wealthy people who love buying stuff when they’ve been sated with several glasses of wine and a delicious meal.” 

Kara nodded, “Smart. I did notice the art when we were there the other night. There are some gorgeous pieces.” 

“Yes, and they keep getting sold off which is why I need to get some new stuff. I liked what this artist had displayed on her website, so I’m hoping she has some things that are the right scale for the wall space that’s available right now.” 

They rung the bell for the studio labeled, “ _ Aimee Marks, _ ” and were ushered inside by the artist—Aimee, a college-aged  _ (not Luthor college-age)  _ woman wearing paint splattered overalls. She had long, waist length wavy blonde hair, half pulled up by a scrunching, and big, tortoise shell rimmed, cat-eye glasses framed pale green eyes. 

“I’m so grateful for this opportunity Ms. Luthor,” Aimee said as she shook her hand. Turning to Kara, her already owlish eyes widened further, “You’re Kara Danvers. I watch you on YouTube. I didn’t know you were friends with Ms. Luthor…”

“Please, call me Lena,” Lena insisted. “And I apologize for not giving you a heads up that I was going to be bringing someone with me—“

“Oh it’s okay,” Aimee waved her hand dismissively before reaching for Kara’s forearm. “It’s  _ so _ nice to meet you. I love watching your videos while I paint.” 

Lena eyed the woman’s hand, still affixed to Kara’s arm and cleared her throat, “Speaking of painting… could we see the paintings you had in mind for the restaurant?” 

She was ready to get things moving along so she could go back to having Kara to herself. It hadn’t occurred to her before that she was probably not the only person who had fallen a little bit in love with Kara from watching her videos, but it certainly made sense. 

“Right,” Aimee released Kara to beckon them over to a corner of her apartment where she had a few pieces displayed on easels. 

In person, they were even more beautiful than the photographs Lena had looked at online. 

“These are incredible,” Kara complimented her and Aimee beamed. 

“I agree. I would love to display them at the restaurant. Although I might actually end of purchasing this one for myself,” Lena remarked about one of the paintings. Greens, blues, greys, and gold leafing created an emotive, dreamy scene that reminded her of—

“It’s inspired by some of my photographs from the Cliffs of Moher,” Aimee supplied, as if reading her thoughts. “I did a year abroad in Ireland. Did you know that they filmed scenes for Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince there?” 

Lena pursed her lips, “Oh I’ve never seen those movies.” 

“Wait?” Aimee and Kara both exclaimed at once with matching incredulous expressions. 

Lena shrugged, “I haven’t seen a lot of movies. I’ve never had much free time in my life for sitting in front of a tv.” Not since her summers in Midvale. Between her mother’s insistence that every second of every day be spent in enriching activities (of which watching Hollywood blockbusters was not included in), her rigorous academic career, and now running a restaurant, she had probably missed out on a decent chunk of pop culture. She looked to Kara, “You should feel honored that I watch your videos.”

Kara placed a hand over her heart, “Apparently. But also we have to rectify the fact that you don’t watch movies. I’m already mentally compiling a list of ones I’m going to make you watch.” 

Lena shook her head in amusement and turned her attention back to Aimee, “You received the contract from my manager, Eve, correct?” 

Aimee nodded, “I did. I had a question though, because I couldn’t find in the contract any mention of what your cut is…” 

“That’s because I don’t take a cut of the sales.”

Aimee blinked in confusion, “You don’t?” 

“I’m running a restaurant, not a gallery. So of course I can't make any promises on how quickly the paintings will sell—but if it gives you any confidence, I’ve barely been able to keep things on the walls longer than a few weeks. I already have some regular patrons in mind that I think will be interested in purchasing these. I’ll make sure Eve has them seated at the table next to them when they dine with us next.”

“Oh. Wow. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. You’re doing me a favor anyways, the restaurant would be terribly bland without any art on the walls. So if you’ll just sign the contract saying that you understand the terms of the agreement, then I’ll arrange to have someone come pick them up.” She reached inside her purse for her wallet, “And let me pay you now for the Cliffs painting…”

They finished up the transaction and Kara autographed one of Aimee’s mugs for her as the artist carefully wrapped the painting for her to put in the trunk of her car. 

“That’s really generous of you, to not take a portion of the art sales,” Kara remarked as they drove away from Aimee’s studio. 

“I learned pretty early on in life that my name and my family’s money opened doors for me that were shut to others. The least I can do is use my privilege to help people, give them well-deserved opportunities— _ not take advantage of them like other members of my family _ ,” she added in a mutter. Eager to change the subject from her family, she asked, “So what’s this diner we’re going to for dinner?” 

Kara had given her the address to punch into her GPS, but hadn’t elaborated. 

“The just opened at the beginning of the year. A subscriber recommended the place to me. She’s a theater major at NCU and according to her it’s a new favorite with the students there. They like their curly fries that you can get topped with anything from chili to chocolate pudding.” 

Lena wrinkled her nose in distaste, “You’re not going to make me eat that are you?” 

“I did warn you that it wasn’t going to be the fancy cuisine your  _ Le Cordon Bleu  _ trained palette is used to,” Kara teased. 

“Okay but, chili  _ and _ chocolate pudding on fries? I don’t remember signing up for that.” 

Kara laughed, “Not at the same time! Although I suppose some people might be into that…” 

“That’s vile.”

* * *

The parking lot to the diner was packed when they pulled in and Kara hoped they would be able to get a table. Her subscriber wasn’t lying when she said it was a hotspot for students. At least 80% of the cars there had NCU parking pass stickers on their back windshields. 

Without thinking, she took Lena’s hand as they walked to the door and felt her step falter in surprise before glancing over at her with a smile and giving her hand a little squeeze.

Inside, they remained linked as they wedged themselves into the long line that was almost all the way to the door. 

“So what’s our objective here?” Lena asked, her voice almost completely being drowned out by a group of frat boys who were queuing loudly in front of them. 

“We’re just trying the food and checking the place out. If we decide they would be a good fit to feature on the channel, I’ll reach out to the owners tomorrow and request a time for Winn and I to come in and interview some patrons and do a cooking demo with the chefs and—well you’ve seen the videos, you know what we do.” 

One of the guys in front of them caught wind of their conversation and turned around to face them, “Kara?” 

She had no idea who he was, which meant—

“Guys, it’s Kara!” He announced to his friends, getting their attention. “Dude we love your videos. Are you going to make one here? Can we be in it? I’m trying to break into the YouTube game too. I make cupcake decorating videos...” 

Out of the corner of her eye, Kara could see Lena trying very hard not to laugh and she was admittedly having a hard time as well. 

“We’re just having dinner for now,” she interrupted him gently as he had started monologuing about his cupcake videos and one of the guys with him was not so subtly ogling Lena’s chest. 

Thankfully, one of his  _ bros _ got the hint for him, steering him back around to resume the conversation they had been having and leave Kara and Lena alone. 

“What exactly is the demographic of your viewers?” Lena asked in a whisper. 

“Oh it’s all over the place. From—“ Kara gestured vaguely to the guys in front of them, “—to grandmas, and everyone in between.” 

A shadow passed over Lena’s face when she said  _ ‘grandmas’ _ but, whatever it was, it was gone so soon Kara figured she must’ve imagined it. 

“We’ve got a surprisingly big European following,” Kara continued. “Winn and I have discussed taking the show internationally. We’re obviously home to spend some time with our friends and family, but we also need to regroup and strategize a little bit for how we want to move forward. Things have just been a total whirlwind so far.” 

“Well, if you do decide to take on Europe, I could definitely lend a few suggestions…” 

Kara smiled over at her, “I might just have to take you up on that offer.”

They moved closer to the front of the ordering line where they could see the menu better and were presented with a smorgasbord of options for topping the signature curly fries with, as well as other diner fare like cheeseburgers and milkshakes. 

“Marshmallow fluff?” Lena whispered, making a retching noise. “This is a crime. This is a crime against food.”

“I don’t know, I think that sounds kind of good,” Kara replied, earning herself a disapproving head shake. 

When they got up to place their orders, Lena got a basket of fries topped with pizza sauce and mozzarella. Kara went for two different options, one topped with chili and queso, and another with chocolate pudding and marshmallow fluff. Mostly for the fun of taunting Lena with it, but also because she always liked trying the most outlandish menu items at a place. 

They were given a number and went to find a table in the packed space, ending up wedged into a tiny corner booth that was impossible to sit at without the length of their thighs pressed against each other. Their conversation turned to small talk while Kara tried not to hyperfocus on every point of contact between them. Her focus for a long time had been solely on her channel. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been on a date, and her body was being insistent on reminding her of that. 

Thankfully their order came quickly, the food giving her a distraction. She took a quick Boomerang for her Instagram story with a poll asking if anyone would eat fries with pudding and marshmallow on top ,and then slid her phone away so she could focus her attention solely on her date. 

“I can’t believe you’re going to eat that,” Lena remarked, glancing over at her tray as she delicately cut into her own fries with a fork and a knife. Definitely not how they were intended to be eaten, but it was cute. 

“I was thinking I really should have just gotten it all mixed together. I mean, why separate savory and sweet?” She waggled her eyebrows teasingly as she lifted some of the chili covered fries and dipped them in the pudding, marshmallow combination. 

“ _ Noooo _ ,” Lena groaned as she popped it into her mouth. 

Kara grinned and took a sip of her soda to wash it all down. “It was actually pretty good. You want to try some?” 

“Absolutely not.” She held up her fork, “I will stick to my own. Which I am willing to admit, are good. I think you should definitely make a video here, if they’re up for it. People that are not me will love to watch you eat that.”

“I was thinking the same thing. I’ll have to have Winn swing by and evaluate the place for filming.” 

“How did you and Winn meet?” Lena asked. 

“CatCo. We both interned there during college,” Kara answered her around bites of chili fries. “When our internships ended, there weren’t any open positions so I just kept waitressing at Noonan’s and Winn did some freelance stuff while we waited for Cat Grant to inevitably execute one of her mass firings. This whole YouTube thing was supposed to just be something fun to do before we settled down with real jobs. We didn’t really expect it to turn into our jobs. I think it’s probably a better gig than trying to see if I can outlast any of Cat Grant’s former assistants.”

“I’ve met her a few times. Ms. Grant. She’s… a force to be reckoned with. Loves my creme brûlée though.”

“How could anyone  _ not _ love your food? Even someone who likes to give off the impression that she subsists on a diet of ambition and coffee.” 

Lena laughed and they continued eating in comfortable silence for a few minutes before she spoke up again. 

“Some of my favorite episodes that you’ve done are the ones at places where the recipes have all been passed down through generations of a family. I wish I had that—a recipe that I had an emotional connection to because of memories of learning from a family member how to make it. No one in my family cooked, they just wrote the checks for the various private chefs that were employed at the house during the course of my childhood. All of the recipes that I serve at L2 are my own creations; I never had a special recipe entrusted with me.”

Kara tilted her head thoughtfully, “I know it’s not the same thing at all really, but I could teach you how to make one of my family’s recipes. And by  _ ‘teach,’ _ I mean I could share the recipe with you and keep you company while you work your magic. I haven’t been home for a piece of my mom’s pie in a long time...”

It was a reach, but she was eager to have a reason to spend more time with Lena before she set out on the road again. 

Lena looked as though she was considering the offer for a moment before folding her hands together and leaning forward against the table conspiratorially, “Well then, I hope you saved room for dessert.” She eyed the half eaten basket of Kara’s chocolate pudding, marshmallow fries, “Because that atrocity certainly doesn’t count.” 

Kara sincerely hoped that her face didn’t give away where her mind had immediately gone to with that sentence. 

Regathering herself, she asked for clarification, “You want to make it tonight?”

“Unless I’ve taken up too much of your time already this evening.” Lena glanced at her watch, “I didn’t even realize how long we’ve been out.”

“Oh you can take up as much of my time as you want.” She hadn’t meant to say that aloud, but it was the truth and the smile she received from Lena in returned dulled her embarrassment. Kara fished out her phone from her jacket pocket, “Let me just text my mom and ask her for the recipe.”

“And then we can make a grocery stop on the way back to my place.” 

Kara nodded and tapped out a message to her mom, muttering, “Hopefully she’s not tied up in something at the conference…” 

They finished up the remains of their dinner and left a generous tip for the high school girl who had served them (and asked for a selfie with her) before receiving a response from her mom. 

Kara laughed as she read it aloud to Lena, “She says,  _ ‘don’t burn down your sister’s apartment or I’ll never hear the end of it.’ _ ”

When they got to the grocery store, Kara pushed the cart as Lena retrieved items from the shelves and placed them inside. It felt oddly domestic for a first date, but somehow still right. She watched as Lena surveyed the assortment of chocolate bars and pieces and chips, clearly having a silent debate with herself over which to use since the recipe from Eliza had been skimpy on the specifics. 

_ “This just says chocolate… what does that mean?” _

_ “I don’t know. I doubt she’s ever even written the recipe down before. She just… makes it.”  _

Lena grabbed a bunch of different options and tossed them into the cart, “We’re just going to experiment a little bit. I, of course, have my opinion on what I think would work best, but I want it to taste just like your mom’s.” 

They made their way to the checkout line and Kara was surprised by how many people looked at her with recognition lighting up their faces—and not because they remembered her from college or her waitressing stint at Noonan’s. A few people even  _ not-so-subtly _ took pictures of her. For as often as she joked with Alex about her being a celebrity, she didn’t actually think of herself as one. She hadn’t acclimated to receiving attention out in public and she hoped Lena wasn’t bothered by—

”Ms. Luthor?” A young girl approached them tentatively with a shy smile on her face after they had paid for their groceries. In her hands was a copy of the issue of CatCo magazine that had been displayed at checkout. She flipped it open to the food section in the back where Lena’s picture was displayed with her recipe for the month and held it out. “I was wondering if you would sign this for me?” 

Kara suddenly felt silly for thinking that all the attention they had been getting was due to her. She had forgotten that Lena was a famous face in National City too. 

A flicker of surprise passed across Lena’s face before it was replaced with a warm smile, “Of course.”

The girl procured a marker from her bag and beamed, “I make your recipes every month. I’m practicing so I can be a chef, like you.” 

“What’s your name?” Lena asked, uncapping the marker. 

“Riley.” 

“Well, Riley…” Lena signed the magazine with a flourish and Kara saw her write something else below her name. “Keep practicing, and in a couple years, we’ll have a spot in the kitchen for you at L2. Okay?” 

Riley nodded eagerly as she took the magazine back from Lena, “Okay.” 

They watched her bounce with a spring in her step back to her mom who was standing a few feet away. 

As they walked out to Lena’s car, Kara asked, “Does that happen often?” 

Lena shook her head, “No. I mean, I get recognized when I’m out in public. People will ask me if I can get them a dinner reservation or if I think I’ll get asked to be a judge on Chopped again or for advice on what they did wrong with their quiche that morning—I don’t think anyone has ever asked for my autograph though. She was sweet. I thought for sure she was coming over here to talk to you.” 

Kara laughed, “If she wants to be a chef, I should definitely not be her hero.” 

“I  _ would _ say that anyone can cook, but I have some evidence to the contrary.” 

Kara nudged her hip with her own, “That’s why I just hang around with people who cook for me.” 

* * *

Turning on some music, Lena tied an apron around her waist and preheated one of her ovens. All of the ingredients had been unloaded from the grocery store and were arranged on her giant marble island. She grabbed a few extra things from her pantry that she would need as Kara perched on one of the barstools to watch her work. 

She consulted the recipe from Kara’s mom again and then set her phone aside. It wasn’t a complicated recipe and yet she was more nervous about getting it right than she had been making mille-feuilles to be evaluated by one of her instructors. 

She melted small amounts of all the grades of chocolate she had bought and had Kara taste them to determine which one her mom probably used. The heat in her kitchen from her oven being on was compounded by the heat she felt under her skin as Kara licked chocolate off her lips with a blissful expression on her face. 

“This is it,” she reported, pointing to the partially chopped up bar of 60% semi-sweet and grabbing an unmelted piece to pop into her mouth. 

“Hey!” Lena pointed her spatula at her chastisingly. “Don’t eat it then, or there won’t be enough for the pie.” She gestured at the other chocolate options, “Eat these.” 

Whenever she was in the kitchen, transforming simple ingredients into something new, she got wrapped up in her own world. It was an escape. 

She was humming to her music and rolling out pie crust when she realized she had been acting like Kara wasn’t there. Looking up at her guiltily—expecting to see her scrolling on her phone—what she discovered was Kara watching her intently, her chin propped up in her hands and a mesmerized look on her face. 

Still, she felt the need to apologize, “I’m sorry. I would probably make a terrible Food Network host.” 

Kara, startled out of her trance, blinked and straightened up, “What?” 

“I’m not used to keeping up a conversation while I cook.” 

“It’s fine,” Kara assured her with a shrug. “You don’t have to talk. I’m happy just watching you. You’re cute when you’re focusing.” 

Lena bit her lip to stifle a grin and dipped her head, returning to her task. Carefully, she laid the rolled out dough into her pie pan, pressing the edges into the scalloped border before popping it into the oven for a quick pre-bake. The filling was easy, chocolate, pecans, eggs, butter, brown sugar, vanilla, and salt. A chocolate custard confection, studded with pecans that she toasted quickly in a pan. She had a few ideas for adjustments—it could definitely use a splash of bourbon—but she wanted to first make it true to the version Kara had grown up on. 

As the smell of chocolate filled her apartment, Lena suddenly felt like she was being swept up in a wave of nostalgia that she couldn’t place. It was like the smell was tapping on a door of her brain seeking invitation into the archives of her childhood that she kept sealed shut. She shook her head, dismissing the insistence that she remember something. Whatever it was, there was probably a reason she had forgotten it. 

While they waited for the pie to finish baking, Kara helped her do the dishes and it occurred to Lena that she had never had anyone in her home. Not like this. Eve was probably her closest friend and even she didn’t know which drawer the spoons went in. The level of comfort that she already felt with Kara was a little dizzying. 

Once the dishes were clean, they hung up her new painting from Aimee and she showed Kara the few photos she had from her time in London and Ireland. 

All the while, no matter how she tried to distract herself, she could not ignore the faint edges of a memory that was trying to get her attention.

When they sat down on her couch with plates of pie balanced on their laps, every bite felt like they were flooding her tastebuds with something familiar. Kara gushed about how she had recreated the pie perfectly and she felt like she was back in her childhood home, sitting at the kitchen counter with Alex and, oddly, Lena felt like she was there too. 

Finally, after a few minutes of watching Kara eagerly dig into her slice of pie, something clicked in her brain—catching her by surprise. 

“Where did you grow up?” She interrupted Kara’s story about a sketchy motel she and Winn had stayed in when they had first started out on YouTube and weren’t really making any money yet. 

“Hmm?” Kara wrinkled her brow in confusion at the abrupt change of subject before waving her fork around dismissively, “Oh just this small town. You’ve probably never heard of it before.” 

She popped her bite of pie in her mouth and Lena watched silently as she swallowed. 

_ Try me. _

“Midvale?” Kara inquired when it became apparent that Lena was still waiting for an answer. 

Confirmation came crashing down around her.

“Kara, we’ve met before,” she blurted out. 

Kara set her fork down on her plate and squinted at her, as if she was trying to see something once familiar in her face, “What?” 

“Yeah, I had completely forgotten about it until now, but this pie… I’ve eaten this pie before. At your house.” Lena pressed a palm to her forehead and tried to remember, “God, I must’ve been six? Seven?” 

Kara blinked, realization dawning in her eyes, “You fell off your bike.” 

Lena nodded, “I fell off my bike right in front of your house and Alex bandaged me up and then we ate your mom’s chocolate pecan pie.” 

It wasn’t that sweet memory of pie and the promise of friendship that her brain had wanted to bury, it had just been caught up in the avalanche of her grandma’s death a few days later. 

Disbelief was all over Kara’s face, “Wow. What are the chances—“

“That we would find each other again?” 

“Pretty unlikely.” Another piece of the memory played in her head and she added, “But I guess pinky swears are hard to break.” 

Kara laughed, but then her smile turned to a frown, “You didn’t come back the next summer, you never came back…”

Lena dropped her eyes to her plate, “My grandmother died.” 

“I’m sorry.” Kara’s voice was filled with the sort of empathy that comes from someone who understood the pain of loss all too well. 

Lena shrugged, “It happens. Circle of life. We all die eventually.” 

That’s what her mother had said to her. Coming out of her mouth now, she realized what an awful, non-comforting thing that had been to say to a distraught seven year old. 

“It crushed me,” she amended truthfully. “She was the person I loved most in the world. I’m pretty sure she was the only person who truly loved me.” 

Kara took her hand and it took her back to sitting on the curb that summer afternoon. All her instincts to avoid vulnerability, to keep people at arm’s reach had somehow been disarmed by her, but it didn’t make her feel scared. She found herself telling Kara everything. Things that she hadn’t revealed to any of the journalists who had wanted to know what had led her down the path of being a chef because she had wanted to keep those memories to herself—keep them sacred. Frozen lasagnas. Back to back episodes of Barefoot Contessa. Warm hugs that filled her up for the cold months ahead. Rose bushes that greeted her every time she returned.

“My grandma always wished she could cook, like the chefs she loved watching so much. At first going to culinary school was about living her dream for her… but at some point it became my passion too.” 

Kara smiled, stroking the back of her hand with her thumb, “She would be so proud of you.” 

“I hope so.”

“You know, I was adopted too—“ 

“I do know. You mentioned it in a video one time.” Lena shook her head, “I feel a little weird and stalkerish knowing as much as I do about you already.”

“Well that’s just what happens when a celebrity dates one of her fans. One of the few downsides of fame and fortune.” 

Lena gave Kara an exasperated look just as the laughter in her eyes betrayed her serious tone. 

“I’m joking. I won’t be a real celebrity until I’ve dethroned Guy Fieri and taken over Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives. That’s my ultimate career aspiration.” 

“I can’t promise I’ll still be attracted to you if you get frosted tips.” 

“Good to know you’re attracted to me now.” 

Lena arched an eyebrow, “That wasn’t already obvious?”

Kara blushed and dropped her eyes to their intertwined hands, “So does that mean you’d be interested in a second date?” 

“I feel like we’ve already been on like three dates.” Lena glanced at the clock on her oven that was displaying a little past midnight. It was going to be a rude awakening the next morning when she had to get up to go to work to train her staff on the new specials for the week. “This has to be the longest first date ever.” 

Kara squeezed her hand, “It’s definitely been the best first date I’ve ever been on.” 

“So… I believe you mentioned something about a movie night…?” 

Kara nodded eagerly, “I’m free whenever you’re free. Literally. Like other than filming at a few places, I have no agenda for the next three weeks except to do whatever I want to do.” 

The reminder that Kara would be off traveling again sooner versus later threatened to be the pin that popped the happy bubble Lena felt like they were floating in. She was opening herself up to someone who was inevitably going to leave. 

She decided to let that be a future problem and the smile returned to her face, “I’ll have my people get in touch with your people.”

Kara grinned that ray-of-sunshine smile that Lena loved even more in person than she did through a screen, “Okay.”

After they scraped clean the last of the pie on their plates and loaded them into the dishwasher, Lena walked Kara over to the door. 

Kara leaned against the door jam, seemingly no more eager to go than she was to see her leave. 

“What’s your policy on kissing on the first date?” Kara asked, a hint of teasing in her voice. 

_ Never had to consider it before, but... _

She took a step, erasing some of the distance between them, and looped her arms around Kara’s neck. 

“Very supportive.” 

Kara dipped her head, brushing her lips against hers gently, and whispered, “Good.” 

She pressed another soft kiss against her mouth before wrapping her arms around her waist to pull her body flush against hers and deepen the kiss. 

Lena could’ve stayed there forever, drowning in Kara’s chocolate tasting kisses and the feeling of her pressing against her, but they were interrupted abruptly by Kara’s phone buzzing loudly in her pocket. 

“Wha—“ Lena dazedly pulled away as Kara released a hand from her hip to fish in her back pocket for her phone. 

“My Uber is here,” Kara said, her voice a little breathless. “Call me tomorrow?”

Lena held up her pinky, “Pinky swear.”

Kara linked her pinky with hers and teased, “Don’t break it this time.” 

“At least this time you’ll know where to find me if I do.” 

“Right. So you better call me or I’ll come storming into the kitchen at L2 like some scorned lover.” 

Kara gave her a mock glare that made her laugh and she nudged her towards the door, “I’m sure my staff would love to see that. Now go, before your driver takes off without you.” 

* * *

When Kara rolled over the next morning at 10am to the sound of Kelly attempting to tiptoe into the guest room to retrieve something from her bookshelf, she waved off her apologies groggily, “S’okay. I needed to not sleep the whole day away. Alex and I are going to hang out.” 

“Where were you last night? Alex and I got sucked into a binge watch of the new season of Mindhunter when she got home from her surgery. We heard you get in late.” 

“I was on a date.” When Kelly arched a curious eyebrow, Kara elaborated, “With Lena. Luthor.”

“Oh nice. Alex said the reason I got home to a spotless apartment was because you were stress cleaning over her,” Kelly teased. “There’s a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen, feel free to help yourself,” she added over her shoulder as she left the room. 

Kara fumbled for her phone on the floor beside her, intending to send Lena a good morning text— _ was that too much too soon? _ —but she got distracted by a barrage of notifications that was more abundant than normal. 

_ Had one of their videos gotten picked up by a major media outlet? _

She checked her texts first and the one from Winn was the explanation she was looking for—and it had nothing to do with any of her videos. At least not one that she had filmed. He had sent her a link to a website entitled: We The Unicorns, which touted itself as the official site for YouTuber news. Up until that point she hadn’t been a particularly newsworthy person on the internet. She hadn’t married anyone for the content. She hadn’t scammed her viewers into buying something sketchy. She hadn’t said anything racist or homophobic. She hadn’t—

But she had gone on a date. And now an article was chronicling it for all the internet to weigh in on. Okay,  _ all the internet _ , was a little dramatic. Even with her millions of viewers, the people who actually cared about her personal life were only a small subset of the internet population. 

Overnight though, pictures from the diner and the grocery store had surfaced online, apparently spreading around Twitter and Tumblr and picking up a stream of commentary before making it to the Unicorn site. Lena’s identity had been determined and while some of the featured tweets in the article were from people asserting that they were probably just friends…  _ who liked to hold hands _ , others had already dubbed them  _ KarLena _ . 

She scrubbed a hand down her face. She was pretty candid on the internet, and personal with her viewers, so she knew she had opened herself up to this kind of attention.

Lena however, despite being a public figure, was also a pretty private person. Her social media content was all related to her professional pursuits and the things she had shared with her about her childhood and family life had never come up in an interview before as far as Kara knew. How was she going to react to this intrusion into her privacy? 

At least the opinions seemed to be pretty overwhelmingly positive. She did a quick scroll through her mentions on Twitter and found lots of cute tweets from her viewers accompanying the grainy cell phone shots of them in the grocery store, like:  _ we love a foodie power couple!!! _

There was some homophobic trash, but unfortunately that was to be expected—and some of it was just amusing and probably generated by a bot, because:  _ She should’ve just stuck to eating burgers instead of getting all political. No one wants to watch an angry dyke.  _

Um… what? She had gone on one date, she wasn’t changing the content of her channel. And while she didn’t often have reason to bring up her sexuality in her videos, she hadn’t been hiding it either. 

A lot of people who were in the camp that it hadn’t been a platonic friend outing were speculating that they had been seeing each other on the down low for a while now—which to be fair, Kara could see how people got that from seeing how lovestruck she looked in some of the photos. 

Maybe Alex hadn’t been being overly dramatic when she said that she was quick to get herself caught up in a crush. 

Taking a deep breath, she first shot a text to Winn—thanking him for bringing it to her attention—before dialing Lena’s number. She was probably already at the restaurant but Kara hoped she wasn’t up to her elbows in prep work and could pick up the phone. This deserved more than an explanation via text. 

The phone rang once, twice—

“Hello?” 

She immediately launched into, “Hey it’s Kara, I know you’re probably busy at work but I had to call you before you found out about this from someone else—“

“Kara, this is Eve,” Lena’s front of house manager cut her off. 

“Oh,” Kara deflated. 

“She keeps her phone in the office while she’s in the kitchen so she can’t be bothered, but I was instructed to pick it up if you called. I’m assuming you’re talking about the Unicorn article?” 

Kara nibbled on her bottom lip, “She already knows about it?” 

“Oh probably not. The sort of drama that site considers news is not Lena’s cup of tea.”

“But it’s yours?” 

“No. I’m more of a Real Housewives of National City kind of girl,” Eve admitted. “They’ve been trying to film an episode at L2 for a while now, but Lena’s not interested in letting her restaurant be the backdrop for the kind of theatrics that tend to occur during their outings. Anyway, the reason I know about the article is because I keep tabs on media mentions of the restaurant for Lena. She’s in the middle of training the staff on her new recipe for tonight so I haven’t brought it up to her yet. I’m assuming you would prefer to be the one to have that conversation with her though?” 

“Yes. Please.” 

“Okay. She takes a break at 1 today to eat lunch before diving into dinner prep. Why don’t you swing by then?” Eve suggested, and shared with her the passcode to access the kitchen from the back entrance. 

“Thank you.” 

“Of course. And Kara? Don’t stress about it. When Lena got to the restaurant this morning, it was like she was floating on a cloud. The last time I saw her this happy, it was right after we got the news about our Michelin Star. I don’t think some pictures on the internet are going to wreck your chances of getting a second date.” 

Kara laughed in relief, feeling some of the weight on her chest lift, “Thanks Eve. I’ll see you later.” 

Walking out into the kitchen, she found Alex sitting at the counter, nursing a mug of coffee. 

“How was your date?” Her sister asked as she walked past her to retrieve a mug for herself. 

“Amazing,” Kara sighed, pouring coffee into her mug. Adding sugar and creamer, she sat down next to Alex. “She’s amazing. And I just felt like, this instant connection. Like we’re meant to be in each other’s lives. Or maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic. I don’t know.” 

“Well you’re definitely a little bit of a hopeless romantic,” Alex teased. “But Lena might also be perfect for you. Are you going to go out again?” 

“I hope so, but…” 

“But?” 

“Some pictures of us ended up online and people are talking and… I’m worried she’s not going to want to be with someone who comes with so many fans.” Alex rolled her eyes and Kara swatted at her, “I’m not being conceited. I’m serious. Millions of people watch my videos and some of them are also interested in my personal life. I’m pretty sure that’s the definition of a fan. I know you think that my career choice is stupid but—

Alex’s face grew serious and she reached over to place a hand over hers, “I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. I don’t think it’s stupid at all, and I am really proud of you. I think it’s amazing what you and Winn have built, and I love seeing the way your confidence has grown because of it. I’m also your big sister though, so I feel partially responsible for keeping your ego in check. Aren’t I allowed to laugh a little bit over the fact that people think you’re so cool when I know what a huge nerd you are?” 

“Oh I don’t think anyone is under the impression that I’m cool. Weird and relatable is what gets the clicks these days sis, keep up.” Alex shook her head in amusement and Kara added, “But thank you. It means a lot to know I have your support.” 

Alex squeezed her hand, “Always. So did you have any ideas of what you wanted to do today?”

Kara closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, “I’m so sorry. I got caught up in all this and totally forgot today was our day to hang out. I was going to go stop by the restaurant this afternoon to talk to Lena…”

“That’s okay. I’ll visit Kelly for lunch while you’re with Lena and we can still have the rest of the day.”

* * *

Lena put the finishing touches on two sandwiches made with freshly baked bread, one for her and one for Kara, who Eve had told her would be stopping by. She heard the beep of the back door being unlocked and a smile turned up the corners of her mouth as she looked up to see Kara walking in. 

Something about the way Kara was carrying herself—the expression on her face—made her nervous, and her smile flipped to a frown. 

“What’s wrong?” She asked, wiping her hands on her apron and extending them out to Kara. 

Kara took her hands and stepped in close to her, “Hi.” 

“Hi.” Arching an eyebrow, she repeated, “What’s wrong?” 

“So… you know how people were taking pictures of us last night?” 

Lena nodded, “Yes…” 

“Well, some of them ended up online.” 

“Okay.” 

“And now people are having opinions about us.” 

“Okay.” 

“Please say something other than okay.” 

“Okay—“ She shook her head and laughed, “Sorry. Are you… are you upset about people knowing we went on a date? Are you not out?” 

“No,” Kara insisted. “I’m not upset, and I’m not in the closet. I just—I didn’t want you to be upset.” 

“I’m not upset.” 

“Oh. Okay. You just don’t really share much of your personal life online, so I—“

“I don’t have a personal life. My life is my job.”

“Oh,” Kara dipped her head, taking the words like a rejection. 

“But I want to change that,” Lena hastily amended. “I want to have something that isn’t just about the restaurant. I want to have something with you.” She squeezed Kara’s hands and she looked back up at her, her smile returning. “And if that means people on the internet are going to feel entitled to an opinion on my personal life, I can deal with that.” 

“You sure?” 

Her mother was not going to be excited about it; she was shocked she hadn’t already received a call from her. She knew for a fact that Lillian had alerts set up for both her and Lex for whenever they popped up in the news. Usually Lex received congratulations for his accomplishments, while she was stuck instead with only admonishments for whatever her mother considered to be missteps. Instead of dwelling on her mother’s likely opinion though, she thought about her grandmother. She wished she could introduce Kara to her. Her grandma would love anyone who could make her smile like Kara had been, even since before they had actually met. 

“I’m sure. Besides, I might’ve already ordered a box set of all the Harry Potter movies for us to watch together. And we’ve got more than half a pie left over in my refrigerator. We can have some date nights back at my place, away from people’s phone cameras.”

“Sounds good.” Kara grinned and leaned in to kiss her. When she pulled away, tilting her head to the side with an adorably curious expression on her face, she asked, “Does it smell like my mom’s pie in here?” 

“With a few little tweaks, but yes. We’re trying out a new dessert special this week.” She took Kara’s hand to lead her over to the oven, “Check out these cute little pie pans…” 

When she opened the oven door a crack to let Kara see in, they were hit with a wall of aromatic chocolate. 

She bit her lip nervously, “I hope it’s okay… me using the recipe.” 

“Of course. Honestly, I’m pretty sure my mom got that recipe out of like, an old Martha Stewart cookbook. She just likes to claim it’s her own because she memorized it, and doesn’t measure half the ingredients.” Lena laughed and Kara added, “You might have to share with her the tweaks you made though.”

“Oh it’s mostly just Bourbon. Don’t get me wrong, the filling we made last night was delicious, but you can never go wrong with adding booze to desserts.” 

* * *

“Winn and I are leaving for Austin tomorrow,” Kara remarked as the credits rolled on Part 2 of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. 

Her head was in Lena’s lap and she was playing with her hair—lulling her to sleep. Even with the movie playing loudly over Lena’s surround sound system, she had been fighting to keep her eyes open. 

The past three weeks had been like a dream. The restaurant kept Lena busy, but they had still managed to find time to be together. Sometimes it was Kara stopping by the restaurant at lunch. Sometimes it was Lena FaceTiming her when she crashed in bed at night after getting home from a hectic night at the restaurant. Sometimes FaceTime wasn’t necessary because they were both in Lena’s bed. 

They had been keeping things low key out in public ever since the photos of them out on their first date had ended up all over the internet, but that hadn’t done much of anything to quell the speculation about their relationship. She hadn’t addressed any of it, hadn’t answered any of the questions in her DMs. Although her non-answer was probably answer enough for people who were used to her readily responding. She had also talked Lena into making a cameo in the video she had filmed at the curly fry diner. While there was nothing explicitly romantic about their interactions in it, she knew that once it was uploaded, it would be like throwing gasoline on kindling. 

It would all just be rumors though if they never saw each other again. She should have said something sooner, brought up her impending departure sooner, but she hadn’t wanted it confront that it might mean the end of them. 

“Oh,” Lena breathed out. “Yeah, I guess it has been three weeks.” 

“I’m sorry.” Kara shifted so that she was looking up at Lena instead of at the tv screen. “I should’ve said something before now. I just didn’t want to have to think about leaving you.” 

“It’s okay,” Lena assured her, smoothing her fingers soothingly over the crinkle forming between her eyebrows. “I was very pointedly ignoring it too.”

“I wanted to extend our break but… we’re almost through our pre-filmed videos and I—“

“Hey,” Lena interrupted her softly. “You don’t have to explain it to me. I know your life isn’t here. But we’ve said goodbye before. We find our way back to each other.” 

Kara smiled up at her, “And unlike when we were kids, we have each other’s phone number.” 

“Exactly. So you’ll call me?” 

“Every day. If that’s what you want.” 

“Pinky swear?” 

Kara lifted her pinky up to her, “Pinky swear.” 

* * *

TWO MONTHS LATER

“People want to know when you’re going to be in another video,” Kara said, rolling over in bed and propping herself up on a pillow to make herself more comfortable. She glanced over at Winn in the bed next to hers, headphones on and oblivious to her as he edited a video, “You’re an even more popular guest star than Winn now. I think he’s a little jealous.” 

Lena laughed, and even though their connection was a little spotty, the familiar sound made Kara’s smile widen. They had made good on their promise to call each other every day—only missing an occasional call if they were thwarted by conflicting schedules and time zones. Despite the distance between them, Kara was falling even more for her with every conversation they shared. 

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” Kara asked. She and Winn had just wrapped up their last stop before they headed home for the holiday. 

“I usually just bring home leftovers from the restaurant…” Lena answered. 

“Do you work every holiday?” 

“Yes…” 

“Do you ever get to take off?” 

“Of course I do. Whenever I have a professional appearance or I’m sick. My staff is very competent, I just—I like working holidays. It’s a nice distraction from the loneliness of not having anyone to spend them with.”

Kara frowned, “Come to Thanksgiving at my house. Or, my mom’s house, technically.”

“The one you grew up in?” 

“Mhmm.” 

“I’ve never been back. To Midvale. Not since…” Lena let her voice trail off. “I guess a part of me thinks that if I don’t see that house, don’t see someone new sitting on the front porch, I can still pretend that my grandmother is there, waiting for me to come home for a piece of frozen lasagna.” She took a deep breath, “Are you sure that would be okay? I don’t want to intrude on a family thing...” 

“You wouldn’t be an intrusion. Kelly is coming. Winn is coming, and he’s not even anyone’s girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend,” Lena echoed the word with what sounded to Kara like uncertainty in her voice and she suddenly felt self-conscious for presuming things were that serious. 

Was she trying to take things too fast by attaching labels? By asking her to spend a holiday with her family? They hadn’t known each other that long—or they’d known each other since they were children, depending on how you wanted to look at it. But they had spent so much of that time apart. Was there a magic number on how many dates you had to go on with someone before you could be considered,  _ ‘in a relationship?’ _

“I mean, I guess we never made it official—“

“What’s the process for that exactly?” Lena asked teasingly. “An Instagram live? Clear up all the rumors about KarLena?” 

Every time Lena commented on one of her videos or Instagram photos, they were countless replies underneath it—badgering for details about whether or not they were still together. 

Kara huffed out a laugh and joked, “An Instagram live announcement just  _ screams _ PR relationship. But Winn and I were planning on hitting up this burger place in the next town over from Midvale on our way back on Friday and you could be in another video…” 

“As long as long as you don’t make me eat anything with marshmallow fluff on it, I’m in.” 

“Yes?”

“Yes. To Thanksgiving dinner, and to giving the people what they want with another YouTube appearance.” 

* * *

Lena reached out for Kara’s hand, crushing her fingers in an attempt to keep her emotions from spilling out her tear ducts instead. 

Everything looked the same. The paint on the shudders was peeling a bit, and the roses were no longer in bloom this late in the year, but it was still her grandmother’s house. Still the doorstep she had counted down the days every year until she would be dropped on. Still the patch of sidewalk where she had made her first pinky promise with Kara. 

They had probably already lingered too long. Inside one of the lit up front windows, she could see the dining room that had been seldom used when her grandmother lived there filled with a family surrounding a table. She didn’t want them to look out and see two strangers awkwardly standing outside, staring at their house.

It felt a little silly, but also somewhat necessary, to say a silent thank you to the house. A thank you to the place that she had set her down the path her life was on. A thank you to the home where she had never felt a shortage of love. 

A thank you, and then, a goodbye.

Dipping her head, she turned to walk down the sidewalk back the way they had come, tugging Kara along with her. A consultation of Google Maps had revealed that the Danvers’ house and Lena’s grandmother’s were only about a half a mile apart, when a direct route was taken instead of the ambling one they had taken that long lost summer. She shivered against the cool night air and Kara pulled her close against her side, slowing down their walking pace but taking away some of the chill. 

“You going to be okay?” Kara asked in a soft whisper. 

“Yeah. I’m glad I finally got to say goodbye.” 

They made it back to the house, where pies were coming out of the oven and everyone was gathering around in the living room to play games. And as she settled onto the couch with Kara leaning up against her, Lena knew she didn't have to hold on to old memories of what home felt like anymore. Home felt like three hour phone calls with Kara that bridged the distance between them. Like holding her hand. Like baking her favorite pie. 

In that moment she didn’t know for sure exactly what the future would look like, but years and years of memories worth remembering were ahead of her. 

**Author's Note:**

> i would love to hear what you thought!! drop a comment or come chat on twitter @mo_writes :D


End file.
